


The Wolf Within

by aslytherspuff



Series: The Wolf Within [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Werewolf Mates, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 18:59:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18900688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aslytherspuff/pseuds/aslytherspuff
Summary: Post-DH, EWE. Ginny is turned by Fenrir during DH and Hermione is trying to research everything she can to help.* Cross posted from FFN **





	The Wolf Within

I spent hours, days, weeks sequestered in the library at Grimmauld Place, reading every book I could find that referenced dark creatures, dark magic, or dark potions... There was so little credible information on werewolves, even in a library this expansively stocked in all things dark and dangerous.  
Only the male of the species may become infected by the moste evile curse. Clearly untrue. I slammed that book down with growl of frustration.  
The curse is moste potente for the witch or the wizard who is practiced in the moste evile of magicks. That book was hurled at a wall.  
The moste immedicable curse must be smote with a bullet of the finest silver. Oh, for Godric's sake! Werewolves needed Wolfsbane and someone to do some damn research, not to be killed in cold blood. I was about to somehow damage this ancient tome also when something flickered in my peripheral vision.  
I jumped guiltily when Ginny's scarred, pale face appeared in the doorway.  
“Mione,” she whispered, softly, “you promised me you'd stop this.”  
I slid the ancient, leather-bound book onto the table beside me. “Stop what?” I asked, calmly. “You know I can't last an hour without picking up a book, Gin.”  
Ginny's eyes narrowed. “You're researching. Obsessively. Again.”  
I wanted to deny it but I couldn't bring myself to lie to her. Not when she looked so weak, so pale, yet so strong and determined. Not when I felt like her eyes could see my very soul. “I wasn't researching,” I said, instead, “because there's nothing to research.” Bitterness saturated my tone as the feeling of complete and utter failure seeped out of my every pore. There was nothing I hadn't been able to research: the wizarding world, the Chamber of Secrets, even – to some extent – Horcruxes. But I was unable to research anything that would save my best friend.  
Ginny's hazel eyes flashed with molten gold and her jaw tightened. “Nothing to research?” Her voice was low, gravelly, almost a growl. For the first time, I truly saw her as a werewolf. As something that could be dangerous to me. An icy sliver of fear slid down my spine. Danger, my senses all seemed to warn me, and for a brief moment, I wanted to listen to them.  
I closed my eyes and gathered myself. I couldn't let her see that I was afraid. “Ginny, I have read every single book in this library. I am absolutely sure that there is nothing to research. There's nothing even close to realistic in this whole house!”  
Suddenly, Moste Macabre Monstrosities flew off the table and slammed into the wall behind me, and despite myself, I flinched.  
“You want realistic?!” Ginny screamed. “You have an actual, real, live werewolf living with you, Hermione, but you're so obsessed with your books that you can't see what's right in front of you!”  
My heart sank into my stomach, my throat closing with the guilt that threatened to choke me. “I'm so sorry, Gin...”  
Ginny spun on her heel, her bright copper hair flying out behind her. “Don't bother apologising. Fix it. Meet me in the basement in an hour. Dress comfortably; it's a long night.”  
Ginny had stomped all the way up to her room before I finally realised what she meant. She was inviting me to watch her transform. She trusted me enough to let me stay with her during the full moon.  
Maybe I was overthinking it; maybe Ginny simply didn't think it was a big deal... But Remus had always told me how personal it was, the level of trust involved. He'd known Sirius two decades before he trusted him enough to let him stay as a human, rather than as Padfoot, and only then because they were mates. Neither Remus nor Sirius had really understood how the mate bond worked, but they knew it soothed the wolf no matter what form Sirius was in, or what time of the month it was. Wolfsbane was essential, of course, but Remus' full moons had become far less painful after Sirius' escape from Azkaban.  
I scribbled 'Mate bond?' in the corner of my note-covered parchment. Perhaps Ginny would let me study her and Harry if tonight went well. There had been some potions and spells in the innumerable tomes of the Black Family library that would be able to shed more light on how the bond worked... But perhaps tonight would lend some other information to my research: would the wolf accept the human's friend being nearby? Or would it reject anyone who wasn't its mate? The Marauders had proven that Animagi were accepted by the wolf, but never that a human would be safe, save for the wolf's mate. I would have to ensure I had an easy escape route in case Ginny's wolf became unsettled by my presence. I wouldn't put her at risk, even for the sake of research.  
I pulled my unruly curls back away from my face and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment. If Ginny was willing to trust me enough to allow me to see her transform, the least I could do was be prepared and do her justice.

I met Ginny at the door to the basement exactly 40 minutes later; I had arrived early, but couldn't open the door despite trying every unlocking and ward-deactivating spell in my arsenal. Ginny, however, had lifted the wards with an almost-casual flick of her wand, opening the door and leading the way down the stairs without so much as a glance in my direction. She was still mad. I needed to make amends before she transformed, lest the anger somehow carried over into her wolf form and led to things that didn't bear thinking about.  
I ran my fingers over the almost-tangible wards in awe. “Did Harry do this for you?” Aside from possibly McGonagall, I couldn't think of anyone with the skill or power to put up wards like that, but I didn't recognise the magical signature.  
An undecipherable look flickered across her face, replaced instantly by an impassive mask. “Oh, no. Sirius did. For Remus.”  
I felt my eyes pop open and the jaw fall in astonishment. “Sirius? Are you sure?”  
Ginny smirked. “He wasn't smart like you, Mione, or as powerful as... Harry, but this room is the safest place outside of the shack in Hogsmeade. Sirius took risks with his own life, but never with Remus'. Anyway, Harry,” again, her voice sounded odd as it wrapped around her boyfriend's name, “checked the wards himself. They're airtight.”  
I nodded, knowing that Harry wouldn't have allowed Ginny to stay here – especially not without him – if he hadn't been sure of her safety.  
“Are you sure?” I asked, as I settled myself into a decrepit, dusty armchair. Perhaps Sirius had sat here on Remus' full moons, I realised, as I ran my fingers over the fraying brocade.  
“Sure about what?” Ginny replied, distractedly. She was pacing anxiously in front of the door, double and triple checking that the wards had been reactivated.  
“They're set, Gin. They're fine. You're safe,” I assured her, softly. “Are you sure about me staying? Is the wolf sure about me staying?”  
Ginny finally stopped pacing and threw herself down onto an old, battered mattress in the middle of the floor. “Course I am. Harry's stayed with me before and the wolf didn't mind. Besides, I'm taking Wolfsbane.”  
I shifted uncomfortably. “Gin... Uh, werewolves behave a little... differently towards their mates.”  
Ginny's head flew up, her whole body rigid. “What?” she snapped, amber eyes flashing dangerously.  
“I just meant,” I explained, keeping my voice calm and reassuring, “that the wolf would accept Harry. He's your mate. It might be different with me.”  
Ginny's shoulders sank as her body seemed to deflate. “Oh, ah... Huhreesntm'mte.”  
I cocked my head. I thought she'd just said... But, surely, I'd misheard her. “Sorry?”  
Ginny lowered her chin to her chest, eyes cast down and cheeks flaming. “Harry's not my mate. He's pack, like a brother, and the wolf tolerates him... But he's not my mate.”  
How much had I missed while I was holed up in the library?  
“You broke up?”  
Ginny shrugged.  
“So... you're still together?” Maybe I had just misunderstood; she had said that the wolf tolerated him, so perhaps they were still dating.  
Ginny's eyes filled with tears. “N-no. He broke up with me. Told me he'd make sure I still got my Wolfsbane and to stay here as long as I needed. He's staying with Ron in their flat near the Ministry.” Her voice was steady as tears slid down her face. “You know what he's like with his stupid self-sacrificing hero complex.”  
I did know. I knew exactly what he was like once he got something into that thick head of his. First thing tomorrow, I would Floo over to the flat to give him a piece of my mind! If he thought for one minute—  
A soft whimper from Ginny tore me out of my thoughts and back to the tiny, trembling red-head in front of me. Her fragile frame was wrapped in nothing but a threadbare blanket. She was curled up tightly on the mattress, her nails – now long and black – tore into her still-human flesh. Her eyes were molten gold, inhuman, unfocussed. Her muscles rippled and bubbled under her skin. Her face was contorted into a mask of pure agony.  
I tried to force myself to watch, but I found that the image of her in so much pain burned itself into my mind, churning my stomach and compelling me to close my eyes. I hated that I could escape the pain so easily while she was forced to endure the agony, and I flinched at every whimper and scream that escaped her. Gradually, the screams quietened and became less human, softening into weak, canine whimpers then, eventually, there was silence.  
I didn't move, my body tense and my head hidden in my hands. Once I had looked away, I found I couldn't bring myself to look up again. I had been so determined to prove to Ginny that I wasn't scared, but I was. Not of her, but for her.  
I knew the wolf wouldn't be able to make that distinction, though, so I took a deep breath and slowly raised my head from my hands. My breath left me in a gasp. I had seen Remus and Fenrir transformed, and I had seen countless photographs and illustrations; I thought I had known what to expect, but nothing had prepared me for the sight in front of me.  
A werewolf, larger than a dog, but no bigger than a 'normal' wolf, lay shivering on the mattress. She was gorgeous, covered in thick, russet fur, her bright amber-gold eyes blinking up at me. When my eyes met hers, the response both thrilled and terrified me: the wolf lowered its head and eyes in submission. That was definitely not in any of the textbooks.  
I slid off my chair onto the floor and shuffled over to the side of the mattress.  
“Hi, Gin,” I whispered, knowing my voice would waver if I tried to speak.  
The wolf laid its ears back against its head and let out a soft whimper. More submission. I had been so prepared to show my submission to the wolf that I froze. I hadn't prepared for this. Time after time, my research had failed me with werewolves, with Ginny. I racked my brain for anything I'd read about showing dominance.  
Hesitantly, I sat up taller and leaned towards the wolf. The wolf lowered herself further, but did not back away. So far, so good. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, I leaned to rest my chin on the back of the wolf's neck. The wolf huffed softly and relaxed, rolling onto her side to show her belly. I smiled, tension leaving me as I reached out to card my fingers through her fur.  
“Hey, Gin,” I murmured as the wolf leaned heavily into my hand. I rubbed my face against her head gently, on instinct, and the wolf beneath me almost purred. We lay like this for a long time, curled up together on the mattress, a feeling of utter contentment washing over both of us.  
This is not how I'd imagined a night with a werewolf would be.  
I was far from ignorant, far from prejudiced, but I'd imagined tension, fear, an anxious werewolf pacing the confines of it's cell, howling and scratching. I'd imagined distress, hardship, and torment. Not this. Not the warmth, comfort, and peace that flowed effortlessly between us. Not a purring werewolf; more a lap cat than a ferocious beast. Part of me never wanted this moment to end, but I couldn't wait until the morning, when I could ask Ginny if all her full moons were like this, if her full moon with Harry had been like this, too.  
If Wolfsbane and some understanding company was all it took to soothe a werewolf, then they really weren't the dangerous, bloodthirsty creatures the Ministry portrayed them to be, and I had the proof, right here, asleep on the mattress beside me.  
Reaching into my cloak, I carefully withdrew an empty vial. Pressing the tip of my wand to my temple, I withdrew my memories of the last half hour, placing them delicately in the vial and spelling the vial unbreakable. Then, I set my wand and the vial aside, conjuring a thick blanket over both of us, and settled down to sleep.

I awoke the next morning to a sharp pain in my neck and an ache in my side. I blinked blearily, trying to clear my sleep-clouded eyes. The pillow beneath my head shifted, and I tensed.  
What the fuck?  
I scrubbed my hands over my face and forced my eyes to focus. Beside me, on the mattress, was a river of auburn hair.  
Ginny.  
Last night came flooding back to me in a wave of giddiness. Ginny!  
Knowing how tired she would be, I slid away from her gingerly, shivering when my feet touched the cold, stone floor of the basement. I wrapped my cloak tightly around myself and hurried silently up the stairs. The wards had fallen naturally with the rising of the sun, and I emerged into Grimmauld's dingy but brightly lit kitchen, blinking rapidly as my eyes tried to adjust.  
I hurried upstairs to fetch some clothes for Ginny and myself before returning to the kitchen to make breakfast. As the kettle whistled merrily on the stove, I couldn't help but allow myself to wander back to last night. Were all werewolves that... tame? Surely, if they were, no one would be afraid of them. And I certainly didn't remember Wolfsbane being quite that effective on Remus. Perhaps Ginny's size and age played a role. Perhaps it was because Ginny had never suffered a transformation without Wolfsbane, and so the wolf had never truly taken hold. Awe was rapidly replaced with speculation as my natural desire to understand sent questions and 'what ifs' swirling around my brain.  
The pop of the toaster snapped me out of my increasingly unlikely speculations, and I gathered everything onto a tray to take down to Ginny.  
I woke her with a gentle pat of the shoulder and whisper of her name; I knew she was no longer the wolf, but something in the back of my mind warned me not to startle her. When Ginny blinked up at me, her eyes no longer the molten gold of the wolf, I smiled.  
“Morning, stranger.”  
Ginny's smile was strained, and I immediately pressed a pain potion against her lips. “Here, this will help.” Her frown deepened momentarily, but she swallowed the potion without complaint.  
“How are you feeling?” I asked, reaching out to rub my thumb across her cheek in concern.  
Ginny flinched, and I let pulled back as if I had been burned.  
Why had I done that? Petting the wolf was one thing, but you couldn't just go around petting humans! Especially humans who are probably tired and hungry and in pain.  
I placed the breakfast tray on the mattress and sat down beside her. “Can we talk and eat? I have so much to ask you.” My head was still buzzing with unanswered questions and brilliant theories and I couldn't wait to hear Ginny's account of last night! This could be the evidence we needed to completely change how the wizarding world sees werewolves. This could change everything for Ginny; I could finally do something to help her, to let her live a normal life and play Quidditch and do everything she ever dreamed of.  
My enthusiasm was snuffed out like a candle doused in water the minute I saw Ginny's face. Her jaw was hard and her skin pale, almost sickly.  
I reached for her instinctively, but she flinched away as if I'd struck her.  
“Don't touch me, Hermione!”  
Fuck. I'd done it again. Pet wolves, not people, Hermione.  
“I'm sorry, Gin. I'll just go...”  
“No.”  
The word cuts through the room like glass. Ginny is far, far scarier than the wolf ever was, her hazel eyes glinting icily, her posture tense, her face a cold mask. Ginny seemed to be subverting everything anyone knew about werewolves. The night of the full moon was meant to be the hard part but, as a wolf, she had been far friendlier to me than she had been in human form for months. I'd thought her abrupt detachment had been caused by her attack, by the wolf living constantly in the back of her mind... But now it seemed that the opposite was true. The wolf seemed to like me, to appreciate my company the way the old Ginny had; it was this new, cold Ginny that actively avoided me.  
“What have I done?”  
The words fell of my tongue as a whimper, far weaker than the confident demand I'd created in my head. Ginny turned away, and I was sure she was purposefully ignoring my question. All I'd ever wanted to do was help her, but nothing seemed to be good enough anymore.  
My research annoyed her. My friendship was unwelcome. Even my simple attempts to care for her wellbeing had been rebuffed.  
Hell, I was her best friend, and she'd not told me about her break up from Harry for... I froze, realising I didn't even know when they'd broken up. My two best friends in the whole world had broken up, and neither of them had told me.  
“When did you break up with Harry?”  
This time, my tone is as cold and sharp as her attitude, and I'm glad.  
Ginny's muscles twitch. “After my first full moon.”  
Three months ago. They broke up three months ago and not only did they not tell me, I hadn't even noticed. When did we stop being friends?  
“We didn't.”  
I'd asked that aloud. At least she'd answered, even if the answer was a lie.  
“I thought you'd pulled away because of the wolf.”  
“I did.”  
“No, you didn't. The wolf likes me.”  
“I know.”  
“So why did you pull away from me, Gin?”  
“The. Wolf.” The edge of steel in her voice was turning into a whole wall of steel, a wall she was building between us for reasons I couldn't begin to comprehend. A wall that might as well have been a dagger shredding my lungs and carving out my heart for the pain it's causing me.  
I spun to face her. “Like hell it's the wolf, Ginny! The wolf likes me. You don't. What the hell have I done to deserve this?”  
Ginny turned slowly, deliberately to meet my gaze. “Yes, Hermione. The wolf likes you. That. Is. The. Problem.”  
I stared at her, knowing the answer was right in front of me if only my brain could connect the dots. The wolf liked me. Ginny was avoiding me. Harry was avoiding me. The wolf liked me.  
Oh, fuck.  
“Ginny,” I whispered, as my shaking hand rose to cover my mouth. “Are you trying to say—?”  
Ginny's pained eyes dropped to the mattress and she nodded miserably. “Yeah, Hermione.”  
Slowly, the shock drained away, and my brain kicked back into gear. My hand reached out and covered hers. She flinched, but neither of us pulled away. A little bit of tension seeped out of both of us at this.  
“Don't, Gin,” I said, softly. “Please, don't pull away.”  
A tear rolled down her cheek, and I reached out to brush it away, my heart thumping unevenly when she didn't resist. “See?” I murmured. “It's okay.”  
Her jaw twitched, like she wanted to say something, but she didn't argue.  
I knew we had more to talk about, but in that moment, I was content to sit with her, wiping each tear as it fell and whispering nonsense words of comfort. It wasn't okay right now, but it would be, I was sure of it. I would make sure of it. The wolf had chosen me, and I was determined to prove the wolf that I was worthy.  
After all, wolves mated for life.


End file.
